


His Broken, Battered Body

by followingfangirl22



Category: The Following
Genre: Comfort, Hardston - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:43:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1284856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followingfangirl22/pseuds/followingfangirl22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Hardy reflects on his relationship with Mike Weston while comforting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Broken, Battered Body

All I could do was hold him. His whole body shook with every sob. I felt his rapid heartbeat as I rested one of my hands on his chest. Tears soaked into the fabric of my pants, but I didn’t care. Mike needed me.

As far as I know, I’m the only one he has around here. Troy and Debra are gone, and I’ve never seen him interact much with the other agents. His family members are hours away. I kept a firm grip on him to let him know that he didn’t have to fight this alone.

I had a brief flashback to the first time I held him. I cradled his battered and fragile body, trying to keep the bleeding under control. Any movement could have killed him. He groaned in pain, but he uttered the words that changed every thought I ever had about him. “I didn’t tell them, Ryan. I didn’t tell them anything.” He was a true hero fighting for what he believed in. From that moment on, I never underestimated the young agent again. As much as I hate to admit it, he grew on me.

Now he’s experiencing a different kind of pain. The kind that can cripple a person’s mind to the point where they are never the same. The kind that can cause severe grief, anger, and can send a person plummeting into a living hell. What if he ends up like me? An obsessed, fearful, alcoholic, who won’t refuses to let anyone get close to him. I opened my mouth to say, “It’s not your fault,” but hesitated. He was almost just as fragile as he was the night he had a brush with death. No words would have provided reassurance. I looked at the sky hoping that some sort of higher power was up there. A higher power that would help me get through to Mike. He’d squander all of his potential if he ended up like me. He’d act on his feelings in the moment and end up doing something with dire consequences.

As much as I wanted to speak to him, I kept my mouth shut. All he needed was someone’s presence. I pulled him as close to me as possible and kept a tight hold on him. Every few seconds I stroked his arm with my thumb as reassurance. I glanced down at him, but his shaking body and tear-stricken face were too much to bear. His right hand remained outstretched, so I gently pushed it down and rested mine on top of it. I couldn’t tell how long it would take before he calmed down, but it didn’t matter. I had all the time in the world to make sure that my best friend didn’t end up like me.


End file.
